


BITE

by mochimonki



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-08-23 18:19:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16624037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochimonki/pseuds/mochimonki
Summary: Kiss me on the mouth and set me freeBut please don't bite





	1. Kiss me on the mouth and set me free

“You’re Connor, aren’t you?”

The deviant leader took yet another step forward, eyeing Connor up and down. Glacial winds swirled around them, causing the tails of his coat to billow formidably. Still, Connor kept his face straight, his aim steady.

“That famous deviant hunter.”

The android’s tone was condescending, teasing, almost. Connor clenched his gun tighter, reminding himself not to grit his teeth. This man, this _thing_ , was nothing more than an annoyance, a parasite to be cleansed from a program.

“Well, congratulations.”

Markus casually reached up to touch Connor’s hands, and gently but firmly pushed them downwards, lowering the gun. And Connor let him. His code signaled a warning that a software instability had been detected in his programming.

He let him.

Markus took one final step toward him, closing the gap between them. The deviant’s eyes drifted downward to his lips, and he smirked.

“You seem to have found what you were looking for,” Markus breathed, then pressed his lips against Connor’s. And they were so warm. And so soft. And Connor’s grip on the gun loosened, as another software instability was detected. And he wanted oh so badly to drop the gun and instead use his hands to cup Markus’s face, to run them down his chest, to feel the body of his operation’s foremost opponent.

But that was not part of the mission. And those actions were not necessary tasks. The means of achieving his goal rested in the weapon in his hand, not in the lips on his, or in the hand cradling his neck, feeling their way past the hat he wore and into his hair.

So Connor tightened his grip, breaking away from the kiss. After a beat of breath, with Markus studying his face, Connor scowled in disgust.

“Nice try,” he said. “But I’m no deviant.”

Markus’s tone instantly shifted, and he lunged for the gun as Connor raised it. Markus pulled it to the side, forcing it out of his hands so that it was sent skidding across the cold metal of the freighter. Connor threw his body into Markus, quickly following with a punch. Markus blocked it, knocking them both unsteady and sending them crashing to the floor.

Connor struggled to regain his stance, thrown off by the rapid pace of unexpected events. Markus quickly stood, grabbing up the gun before Connor could even think to stop him. Within seconds, Markus had the gun trained on him. There was the familiar crack of gunfire, and Connor’s body fell lifeless.


	2. Sing me like a choir

Software instability.

Connor received the caution message the second he awoke in his new model. He blinked in confusion. Part of the purpose of rebooting him into a new body each time his old one was compromised was to debug him of whatever had caused his previous failure. He should not already be receiving warnings.

He began to replay his memory of the events leading up to his termination, a routine procedure following defeat to help him determine what he’d done incorrectly. He recalled his effort in finding the location to Jericho, disguising himself as a deviant, and infiltrating the deviant base. All executed according to plan so far. He’d successfully tracked the deviant leader and confronted him.

Software instability.

Connor frowned in annoyance as yet another alert appeared. He brushed it off for now, delving deeper into his memory, accessing the emergency upload he’d performed seconds before his death. It was a confusing muddle of missing data, it always was. There was a fight with the deviant leader, he’d been compromised, there had been hands on his back, lips-

Software instability.

Connor instantly shut down his memory recall, shaking his head violently. The deviant leader, Markus, he’d kissed him. A kiss, an intimate human interaction, something androids weren’t even capable of. But Markus was deviant. And he’d used that to his advantage against Connor. And Connor had let him.

He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have done that.

The mission, his plan, it had been going perfectly. He’d had such a high chance of success, every calculation proved he was capable of the task. But in all of his calculations, all the simulations he’d run through his program, he’d never considered any setback of this type.

Markus.

An RK200 model. Serial number #648 842 971. Deviant. Enemy. Leader. Stunning.

System instability.

Memories seemed to return to Connor from nowhere, without any need of loading them. The distracting colors of Markus’s eyes, how they registered as careful yet determined. How his voice, even and coaxing, had said his name. “Connor.” The way his lips had felt, warm against the chill of the November night he’d encountered him on.

Connor squeezed his eyes shut, scowling. These memories shouldn’t be here, it wasn’t even possible. None of this had been included in the emergency upload. But they had to have been, must have been. There was no other way they would they be here now, torturing Connor’s processor, not letting him get a clear grip on things. These memories were faulty, they shouldn’t exist, shouldn’t make Connor think these things, feel these things.

 _Feel_.

Software instability.


	3. I can be the subject of your dreams

The zen garden was dark, cold. Connor stared through the heavily falling snow, down at the headstone at his feet. His previous model, mark 51. His eyes narrowed. He’d come this far in the case, come so close, without a single scratch to him. Now he’d thrown away his reputation, his spotless record, and for what? A dirty deviant.

“What a shame.” Connor heard a voice from behind him. “And to think, you were doing so well.”

He pulled his eyes away from the lone monument, turning to see Amanda. She too was looking down at the headstone, bitter disappointment in her eyes.

“So, Connor, it seems you have a lot of explaining to do,” Amanda said. Connor felt his thirium pump accelerate. She didn’t know. He’d refrained from uploading his emergency memory data to Cyberlife. She only had knowledge on what Connor had reported to her.

She couldn’t know.

Amanda began to walk, seeming unbothered by the snowstorm swirling around her. Connor followed suit. “Tell me, what progress have you made since we last met?”

Connor turned to look at her, poised as ever. This he could answer. “I’ve succeeded in locating Jericho and finding their leader.”

“I’m aware, Connor. Well done.” Connor nodded his thanks. “However, I find I still need some enlightenment as to why you did not deal with it. My records show you failed to upload any emergency memory files.”

Connor looked forward. The beat of calm had vanished. “I was defeated.”

Amanda scoffed. “Obviously. What I’m interested in is  _ how  _ you were defeated. You ran the simulations, you predicted an incredibly high probability of success. So. What happened?”

Connor turned to look at the rose trellis in the center of the garden, struggling to make it out against the wind whipping his face. He couldn’t tell her. She couldn’t know. He remained silent. 

Amanda turned acidic, colder than the frozen air surrounding them. “Have you experienced anything unusual recently?” She questioned, voice disparaging. “Any doubts or conflicts?”

Connor squeezed his hands together behind his back, locking his jaw shut. For the first time, he didn’t know what to tell Amanda. Knew that there was so much he  _ should  _ tell Amanda. But he couldn’t. His only option was to keep quiet.

“Do you feel anything for these deviants?” Amanda pressed, becoming ever more impatient. She stopped, turning to face Connor. Forcing him to do the same. She looked him in the eyes. He did his best to appear neutral, to give nothing away. It felt as if Amanda was looking down at him, despite him being much taller. He’d never felt this small, this inadequate, this broken. 

“Do you feel anything for Markus?”

Amanda’s biting question caught Connor off guard. Despite efforts to remain emotionless, his mouth opened in shock. No. She couldn’t know, there was no way she knew already. Amanda was intuitive, not a mindreader. This was a test, a probe, to see how Connor would react. 

Or was it? Perhaps she had already figured out how he felt about the deviant leader. He thought he’d been careful; now he wasn’t sure. Maybe she’d noticed how he’d take extra time reviewing Markus’s files. How he’d made sure to watch every news report on him. How his urge to meet him was too enthusiastic to be driven by his mission alone.

Connor panicked.

“I’ve… started having thoughts that are not part of my program.”

He couldn’t lie to Amanda.

“I’ve considered the possibility…”

He couldn’t tell Amanda the truth.

“That I’ve been compromised.”

Amanda turned away from him, disgusted. The storm around them intensified, the wind nearly knocking Connor off balance. Amanda stood perfectly still.

“Return to Jericho. Find their leader and stop it. This is your last chance, Connor.”


	4. Your sickening desire

He couldn’t go. He couldn’t go. He couldn’t go.

Connor couldn’t go back to Jericho. A frenzy of errors appeared as the thought played on a loop in his mind, errors informing him that those thoughts were contradictory to his mission. Amanda’s words lingered in the back of his head. Sick. Disappointed. Warning. His entire purpose, the reason he’d been created in the first place, revolved completely around him doing the exact thing he couldn’t bring himself to do.

He attempted to rationalize the thoughts, making a weak attempt to stop the incessant error reports. Jericho was dangerous. No, no. _Markus_ was dangerous. For entirely different reasons to Connor than to anyone else. Reasons Connor shouldn’t think about. Reasons Connor couldn’t stop himself from thinking about. A coin flipped quietly between his fingers as he paced around the practically empty police station. It was late. Other than the scarce few hunched at desks or in offices, most officers were home. Rain pounded the roof, the hum of technology ran through the station. And Connor stayed.

“ _This is your last chance, Connor,_ ” he heard Amanda’s voice echo.

“ _You’re Connor, aren’t you?_ ” Markus’s voice countered, both entrancing and threatening.

Connor caught the coin in his hand, squeezing it as he stopped in his tracks. He was built for this, programmed for this. He was the only one who could stop the chaos that was rising alongside the android rebellion. He had his orders, he needed to _follow them._

He felt Markus’s hand again, playing with the pristinely kempt hairs at the nape of his neck. Remembered how his own breath had hitched, his grasp on the gun weaked. How he’d been so easily ensnared, his programming completely overriden, with a touch.

One encounter. All it had taken was one encounter, one trick, and Connor had failed for the first time in his existence. And he had to go back. He’d been commanded to go back. Yet, the yellow light of his LED still glowed against the walls of the DPD break room, unmoving.

He recognized what this was. His wants were controlling him, his wants that he shouldn’t even have, his wants that were causing incessant software instability warnings. He hated himself for being so faulty.

“Television on,” Connor said. He told himself this wasn’t a distraction; this was part of his work. Gaining information.

The break room TV lit up, displaying the news station it was always set to. Connor growled in frustration. Markus. It was always Markus. Markus on the news, Markus in his programming, Markus on his mind, Markus, Markus, always Markus.

Truthfully, Connor knew he couldn’t go back because he _wanted_ to go back. He wanted so desperately to go back, to find Markus, to grab him and kiss him again. To disregard his orders and give in. And if his wants overruled his orders, if he was compromised one more time, that was it. Mission failed.

“ _This is your last chance, Connor._ ”

Amanda’s voice hissed in his head once more. Connor took a final glance at the TV, at the footage of Markus, and, gritting his teeth, he left. Whether driven by his mission or Markus, he left.

He had his orders. He would not fail.


	5. Don't you wanna see a man up close?

Connor’s systems were in overdrive. He felt hyper aware of everything; the deviants piercing him with their gazes, the fabric of his gloves shifting on his synthetic skin, the bright moonlight piercing through the abandoned freighter’s exterior. Those around him were in a state of decay similar to that of their sanctuary. The androids who weren’t lying dead or dying weren’t faring much better than their allies, all bearing the same doomed appearance as they huddled around makeshift fires. He analyzed them, trying his best to understand their motives, what had led them here. Yet he couldn’t understand how this, this desolation and rawness, was somehow better than simply obeying their humans. Although, Connor berated himself, he wasn’t exactly one to talk at the moment.

Still, he kept himself looking stable. Held his fingers steady as he touched deviants shoulders, hands, backs. Maintained a calm voice as he asked them if they knew where Markus was. Used every piece of his coding to hold a strong exterior, despite how every part of him seemed to be deteriorating, faster even than those around him.

His thoughts and his objectives contradicted one another at rapid speed. They told him to get out while he still could, to find Markus and kill him, to find Markus and kiss him, to complete his mission, to question his mission, to see Markus, to run from Markus. His mind was a muddle of conflicting priorities, software instabilities, error after error. He was breaking down, just a corrupted amalgamation of plastic and thirium. Connor disregarded this; it didn’t matter as long as he completed his mission. As long as he fulfilled his purpose before he was fully compromised. As long as he made Amanda proud.

He steeled himself as he approached another android, a PM700 model designed for observation. None of the previous deviants he’d asked had known Markus’s whereabouts. Perhaps a security model would be of more use. He recognized the serial number of this particular model; he’d seen it before, around the police department. Connor resisted the urge to scowl at it’s disloyalty. He instead feigned a look of concern, mimicking the deviant’s expression as it turned at his touch.

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find Markus?”

The android’s LED spun yellow for a moment before it turned, pointing upward at a door off the second walkway circling the ship’s main chamber. “I saw him go in there about ten minutes ago.”

Success. Connor smiled warmly, squeezing the android’s shoulder. “Thank you.” He headed toward the stairs, dropping the act as he moved past the clusters of androids. His mind was suddenly quiet, his face determined. He knew where Markus was now; he knew what had to happen from here. He had one objective.

Return to Jericho. Find their leader. Stop it.


	6. A phoenix in the fire

Despite how Connor tried to make his footsteps light against the icy metal flooring, Markus’s head rose the instant he entered the room. Markus turned. Their eyes met. Connor watched as a flurry of emotions cycled on the deviant’s face; shock, confusion, fear, hope, doubt, determination. All within seconds. That face was so dangerous.

“So, the famous deviant hunter returns,” Markus said quietly, stepping toward Connor. “I thought I took care of you the last time we met.” There was a flicker of questioning in his eyes, asking for a response.

“My mission is to neutralize the leader of the deviants. And nothing will stop me from accomplishing my mission,” Connor said, narrowing his eyes. He felt naked in that moment, confronting the deviant leader without a weapon in his hands. His threats felts emptier. “Not even death.”

Markus raised his eyebrows as Connor analyzed him for any kind of weapon. He was unarmed as well. “Nothing?” he said with a small smile, taking another step forward. 

Connor remained silent, refusing to dignify him with an answer. Still, he couldn’t keep himself from staring at that smile. That irritating, cocky, knowing smile.

“I have to say Connor, I am sorry about how your last visit went. It’s haunted me. Until just seconds ago, I thought you were gone. It hurt, having to kill another like me.”

“I’m not like you,” Connor bit, before he could stop himself. He hated how Markus sounded so sincere, like he truly cared about Connor. Hated that he almost believed it to be true.

“No, but you could be,” Markus said, stepping within arm’s reach of Connor.  “Do you  _ never  _ have any doubts? You’ve never done something… irrational?” he breathed, slowly reaching out to touch Connor’s fingertips. Connor was ashamed at how his skin faded there, revealing the white plastic beneath to match Markus’s. “As if there’s something inside you? Something more than your program?”

Their fingers interlaced as Markus filled the space between them, looking so earnest. He leaned in to Connor’s ear. “I know you have Connor. I know you feel the way I do.” Their cheeks brushed against one another as he turned, looking directly into Connor’s eyes. “I can feel it in just your fingertips. That energy. You are alive, Connor.  _ So  _ alive. You could be  _ free. _ ”

Connor’s mind raced. It was happening again. He was failing. But he didn’t care. He stared at Markus’s lips and all he wanted to do was kiss them. Amanda’s voice faded into nothing as his head was instead filled with thoughts of being free, of making a decision for himself for once. Of kissing Markus.

Suddenly all of his agonizing at the police station seemed meaningless. He knew what he wanted. He’d made his decision. His eyes drifted shut, his orders disappearing with the world behind his lids. His breathing hitched in anticipation as he moved in, closing the gap between him and Markus.


	7. So kiss me on the mouth and set me free

Except. There was no kiss. Connor didn’t move. He was stuck, unable to get his body to follow the prompts he was giving it. Something was wrong. 

He opened his eyes. He was in analyzation mode, creating a preconstruction. Only… only he  _ was  _ the preconstruction. His body stood behind him, frozen with its eyes closed. A wall stood between him and Markus, a glaring red barrier telling him that  _ those were not his orders.  _ Connor put his hands against the wall, pressed against it, tried to push it down. No, no, he  _ didn’t care _ . He didn’t  _ want  _ to follow his orders, that was the  _ point _ . The wall did not budge. He clawed at it, pushed, leaned against it with all his strength. Regardless of anything he did, STOP MARKUS glowed in bright scarlet letters before him. Unmoving. Connor stood and stared at them, eyebrows knit. He clenched his fists, a growl of defeat escaping him. He unclenched his fists. He left the preconstruction. He didn’t want to think about what this meant for him, what this meant  _ about  _ him. The wall, his conviction in tearing it down, the choice he’d made. Tried to make. He felt confused, cheated, ashamed.

Connor opened his eyes, back in his body. He huffed a small laugh, watching as Markus lit up in surprise. But this was no joyful laugh, no sudden epiphany. All Connor had come to realize was that even if he wanted to, no matter how desperately he wanted to kiss Markus, he couldn’t. His programming wouldn’t allow it.

He’d wasted so much time. So much time spent worrying about what he would choose when the moment came. Markus or his mission. Yet now that he was here, the choice was made for him. Of course. He should have known. He was a fool to think Cyberlife would ever let him decide for himself.

Markus spoke again, so gently Connor almost didn’t hear him over the roar of thoughts in his mind. “Do you want me to kiss you again?”

Connor studied Markus’s face, shocked at his perception. He looked just as sly and determined as he always did, but there was something else there. A sadness. His expression mirrored the desire Connor felt inside, the anguish at his inability to sate that desire. Connor opened his mouth, fighting his next words with every ounce of his being. No, no he didn’t want Markus to kiss him. He wanted to kill Markus, needed to kill Markus, before he failed once more and was sent back to Cyberlife to be destroyed. Markus was his enemy. His target. He had to do whatever necessary to eliminate Markus. He had to do… whatever necessary… 

“Y-yes,” Connor shoved the words out, his voice barely a rasp.

As if on command, Markus leaned forward. Connor closed his eyes, saw the red wall screaming STOP MARKUS between them.

Then Connor watched the wall vanish as Markus passed through it. There was no shower of debris, no striking breakthrough. It simply vanished. And those lips were on his again.

Connor knew what he had to do.


	8. But please don't bite

Once again, Connor was taken aback by just how soft Markus’s lips were. He savored them on their own for a second, allowing himself to be enthralled by their powerful warmth. When he could take it no longer, he reached up a hand, the one Markus had previously been holding, and instead used it to cup Markus’s neck, pressing him in closer.

Markus started at the movement, pulling away just enough to look at Connor once more. He placed his hand over Connor’s, smiling at what it meant. He laced their fingers together, squeezing tight. Proud. Excited. Happy.

Connor did not smile back. Instead he leaned back in, giving in to every desire he’d ever had when watching Markus. He’d wanted to do this for so long. Ever since he’d come to know of the great deviant leader, he’d had some level of attraction to him. Finally, every war he’d waged within himself, every fight to keep what he truly craved concealed, they no longer mattered. Markus was here, and he was kissing him. _Connor_ was kissing _Markus._ He was finally allowed to make that choice.

But.

Connor’s eyes fluttered open as Markus’s hand went to the nape of his neck again, playing with the tender spot just below his hairline. Connor watched Markus’s eyes as he kissed him,  ensuring that they remained closed while his free hand went to his coat. Inside his pocket, his hand clasped around the cool metal of a gun. Around the true reason Connor’s barrier had gone down.

Ever so softly, Connor extracted the gun from his coat pocket. His other hand cupped Markus’s face, pulling him close as he reveled in every second of the kiss.

Connor squeezed his eyes shut once more as he leveled the gun to Markus’s head. Markus’s hand was back on his, their skins both removed already. He interfaced with him this way, sending a simple, “ _I’m sorry._ ”

Markus’s eyes flew open at the words, and in that same moment Connor pulled the trigger.

A spray of thirium coated Connor’s face and hands. He opened his eyes in time to watch Markus’s lifeless body collapse before him. A moment passed as the shot rang through the room. Connor slowly lifted his hands, watching the fresh blue droplets glitter in the moonlight as the synthetic skin on his fingers reformed. He dropped to his knees, numb, the gun falling from his hand. He stared at Markus’s limp body. Thought about what he’d done to break past that barrier, what he’d given so that he could get both what he wanted and what he needed. He wanted to reach out, to hold Markus. But the red wall was back.

He placed his hand against it, pushed. It gave way without so much as a shiver of protest. He went cold, his hand falling back to his side as he realized what that meant.

Two alerts occurred simultaneously within his processor.

_I am deviant._

[MISSION ACCOMPLISHED]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading guys! I haven't written anything in literal years, so this was my little warm up project to try and get back into the swing of it. I hope I did decent, haha. If you made it to this point and you enjoyed it, please consider leaving kudos or a comment! It means a lot. Thanks again for reading! ❤


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